


golden afternoon

by akc



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Baking, Bread, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, the softest thing i've ever written probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akc/pseuds/akc
Summary: They’re going to be baking bread today, Shu told him.
Relationships: Itsuki Shuu/Kagehira Mika
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	golden afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i have never baked bread before in my life so this might not be 100% accurate although i did follow a recipe. also: i don't know if mika has ever made bread before, but for simplicity's sake, in this he hasn't!

They’re going to be baking bread today, Shu told him.

Interesting. Mika has never baked bread before, and he isn’t quite sure why Shu wants to do it, but he’s decided to not question it and simply go along with it instead because he doesn’t mind doing whatever it is that Shu wants to do. If it’s an activity that allows them to spend some time together, then Mika is all for it, no questions asked.

Shu wanted to do it at Mika’s apartment, which is all fine and dandy. Mika doesn’t really know much about bread, so he wasn’t sure whether or not he had the right ingredients, and it made him worry a little bit. He nervously chewed his fingers for a moment while he was talking to Shu about it, and then Shu swat his hand away from his mouth ( _ you’ll ruin your fingernails,  _ he had said) and reassured him that he would bring over all of the necessary ingredients. No need to worry.

All that was left for Mika to do was clean up his apartment a little bit. He tried as best as he could, but only got a little bit done because putting everything away made Mika feel anxious. He would rather have his things out in the open because that way he could keep track of where everything was.

He is awkwardly positioning and repositioning a chair when there is a series of knocks at the door.

Mika very nearly dashes to open it up. He fumbles with the lock for a moment and then swings the door open, a wide smile breaking out across his face the moment he sees Shu. “Oshi-san,” he says, “yer here!”

“I am. Step aside,” Shu directs, and Mika presses himself up against the wall so that Shu can fit through the tiny entranceway. He shuts the door behind himself and takes a sniff of the air, making an inexplicable facial expression. “What’s that smell?”

“I-I lit a candle,” Mika admits, wringing his hands together. “Should I blow ‘t out?”

“No, it smells nice.” Shu walks further into the apartment and sets two bags of things down on the small kitchen counter space, smoothing his hand out on the marbled surface before taking out the items he brought along: yeast, sugar, salt, flour, plastic wrap, two baking tins, olive oil, a rubber spatula, a large bowl, some smaller cups, a small scale, and what looks to be a box of cornmeal, as well as a few other things. 

“Could you boil water?” he asks.

Mika nods feverishly and hurries to his little tea kettle. He wastes no time filling up the pot with water and then sets it back down on its hot plate and turns on the heat, fingers twitching in anticipation.

Shu must have noticed how jittery he’s being, being he stops Mika from moving for a moment with a firm hand against his scapula. “Calm down,” he says, looking Mika right in the eyes. “You’re stressing too much.”

“S-Sorry,” Mika mumbles, glancing back at the tea kettle to see if the water is boiling despite having only just turned it on. “‘m just nervous. I don’t wanna screw anythin’ up.”

“If you think that way, then you will most certainly end up ruining something.” Shu folds up the new-empty bags of groceries and sets them down on top of the fridge for later. “Come, wash your hands with me.”

_ With me.  _ When it’s phrased that way, Mika can’t help the way that his heart speeds up. He steps over to the sink next to Shu and they wash their hands in silence; it’s a nice silence, though, a comfortable one that they’ve shared before. 

When all is said and done, Shu reorganizes everything for a quick moment, and then starts unboxing some of the ingredients. He holds out a sheet of paper to Mika, who takes it into his hands. 

“These are the directions I’ve written down,” Shu says. “I trust that you can read them, no?”

“I can!” Mika scans the directions. “First it says t’mix together the salt, yeast, sugar, n’ water.” 

Shu asks for the amount of each ingredient, and Mika reads them out. He watches as Shu weighs everything out into separate little cups using the scale. Then he sets the scale aside and crooks his fingers at Mika, and Mika immediately understands this as an order to get the water. He picks the kettle off of the hot plate and hands it over to Shu, who measures it out into a cup and then hands it back.

Mika sets the kettle down.

“D-Do ya want me t’mix it?” Mika asks, peering at the ingredients. “I wouldn’t want ya t’have to get dirty—”

“No, it’s quite fine. On the contrary, I’d rather me get dirty than you, because I don’t want anything to soil you. I’d like you to knead the dough once everything is mixed together, though.”

Mika nods a couple of times and then watches Shu combine everything into a bowl. He tells Mika to wait for a moment as the yeast dissolves, and he then takes out the rubber spatula and starts to mix everything. This works for a little while until he eventually gets clearly sick of awkwardly folding with a spatula and sets it down. He rolls his sleeves up and finishes mixing everything together with his hands as Mika watches, eyes wide, absolutely enamored by the way that Shu’s wrists move.

He swallows thickly.

He ends up zoning out for a little bit and has to blink away the dreariness from his eyes when Shu turns to him and starts speaking again. “I’ve mixed it all together,” he says. “I’d like you to knead it now. Watch carefully.”

Mika nods, and then Shu flours the surface of the counter very thoroughly and dumps the dough out on top of it. He gives a demonstration, kneading the dough by moving his hands and wrists in a certain way. Mika feels like he’s about to burst just watching it; he’s a little bit embarrassed by how excited this whole thing makes him, but it can’t be helped, he supposes.

“It’ll be a little bit sticky at first. I’m trying to get rid of some of the stickiness for you right now, but I want you to do some of the work so it will still be slightly sticky.”

“M'kay,” Mika says, nodding his head some more. He waits patiently for Shu to finish his kneading, and they continue to stand in silence. Mika doesn’t really mind them being quiet, because it feels safe and nice and calm. 

Shu finishes up his kneading, frowning at the stickiness left behind on his hands, and then steps aside to let Mika stand in front of the little counter space. “It’s your turn,” he says. “I’m going to wash my hands, but you go and start.”

“M'kay,” Mika repeats, and he stands in front of the counter. He takes a few seconds to roll his sleeves up, and then glances down at the dough, feeling rather… unsure of himself. He doesn’t want to keep Shu waiting around for too long, though, so he gets his hands on the dough and starts kneading.

It’s a little bit… awkward at first. The dough is definitely still sticky, and some of the residue gets stuck to Mika’s hands as he works it, and it feels really really weird and he isn’t sure how much he likes it. But he keeps doing, because he’s pretty sure it’ll stop being sticky eventually. And besides, aside from the strange sensation, it isn’t all to bad, even though he doesn’t feel like he’s really getting the hang of the motions—

Mika stops thinking about the dough because suddenly, Shu is standing behind him, chest pressed against Mika’s back. His legs and hands suddenly go wobbly, trembly, totally unsure what Shu is trying to do. It’s exciting. His heart might pop out of his ribcage at any moment.

“Relax,” Shu whispers, placing his hands on top of Mika’s. Mika’s hands freeze and he tries very hard to hide the fact that he’s shaking. “Really, relax, Kagehira. It’s unbecoming to stress so much.”

“‘m sorry, Oshi-san,” Mika says, voice barely there.

“Do it like this.” Shu lefts Mika’s hands with him and helps him knead. “See? Press the dough with the heel of your palm. Use a rocking motion. After each press rotate the dough.”

And, oh, Mika really feels like he might pass out doing this. He’s going to faint because of  _ bread dough,  _ because of  _ Shu’s hands,  _ because he’s being so gentle and sweet and delicate, so careful to not put too much pressure on Mika’s hands, so careful to treat him gingerly, so careful— 

Mika swallows again. Shu doesn’t move his hands, he just helps him knead for a little while.

“Have you gotten the hang of it?” Shu asks after some time passes. Mika nods, and then Shu steps away, and it makes Mika almost wish that he said  _ no,  _ but it’s too late for that. He kneads for a few more minutes, and then Shu instructs him to stop.

Shu picks up the olive oil and the bowl—which he has since washed since Mika started kneading—and coats the inside of the bowl with the olive oil. “Put the dough in here and knead for a few more minutes,” he says, and Mika does exactly that, moving as quickly and carefully as he can. 

Eventually Shu tells him to stop, and so Mika does. He steps away from the counter and looks at his oil-slicked hands, frowning at the slippery sensation. He doesn’t like it. 

“Wash your hands,” Shu says. “We have to let the dough rest until it’s doubled in size. I’m guessing it’ll be approximately two hours, but I’ll check after an hour and thirty minutes.”

Mika nods some more and starts washing his hands. Shu puts a strip of plastic wrap on top of the bowl and starts cleaning up the majority of the ingredients, placing them back into the grocery bags and setting them aside on the floor.

“Wh-What’re we gonna do while we wait?” Mika asks, drying his hands on a towel. 

“I’m going to sew,” Shu says, lifting up a third bag full of stuff that must have slipped Mika’s attention. “Come and watch me.”

That’s an easy enough request. The two of them sit at Mika’s little kotatsu, and Shu starts sewing. Mika watches him with rapt attention.

After a short amount of time passes, Mika decides to ask a question that’s been on his mind. “Um, Oshi-san,” he says, “why did ya wanna do this with me t’day..?”

“Hm?” Shu looks up from his needlework, which he was most definitely completely absorbed in. “What an absurd question.”

Mika stares at him, unsure what to say. “I’m just wonderin’.”

Shu huffs, and he makes a strained sort of facial expression. “I wanted to spend time with you,” he says, and it sounds like he’s tensing his vocal cords. “I wanted to show you how to make bread. Nothing more.”

Mika’s heart absolutely flutters. A smile graces his face and he bats his long eyelashes, feeling exhilarated. “I-I ‘ppreciate it,” he says. “I like spendin’ time with ya. A lot.”

“Hmph.” Shu wrinkles his nose. It looks like he’s experiencing several emotions at once. “Of course you do.”

“‘nd I know ya like spendin’ time with me, even if ya don’t wanna admit it.” Mika beams.

And then it happens—Shu’s cheeks go pink. He very nearly buries his face in his sewing and manages a quiet, “yes, well,” before going silent.

That’s all Mika needed to see, really. He rests his hand against his cheek, propped up by his elbow on the kotatsu, and continues to watch Shu sew, content to sit just like this.

* * *

Two hours later and the bread is all set. 

The first thing Shu does is preheat the oven. The second thing that he does is flour the counter again and dump the dough—which has gotten much, much larger, to Mika’s fascination—out of the bowl. 

“We have to get the air bubbles out,” Shu says as he starts essentially punching the dough. He manhandles it for a short while before dusting it with cornmeal and then pulls out a knife to cut the dough in half. He slides one of the hunks of dough near Mika. “And we have to score it, too, using a knife. Like this.”

He angles the knife so that he can cut three lines into the bread about an equal distance away from each other. The way he moves is so precise, so exact, so smooth—like he’s been doing this his whole life. Shu’s talents are just about endless, it seems, and Mika stands and watches him with bated breath. 

“You do it,” he orders, passing the knife over to Mika. The handle is warm from Shu’s hand, and Mika starts feeling like his heart is going to burst again.

He scores the bread and glances up at Shu once he’s done, seeking some kind of approval. “It looks good,” Shu says. “You’ve done very well, Kagehira.”

Mika smiles, wide and toothy, feeling absolutely wonderful inside. He watches Shu brush the top of the loaves with cold water, and then he picks up a large aluminum tray from the floor. 

“Fill this with water,” he says. “Don’t spill anything. It’s going to be heavy.”

Mika obeys, filling the large tray with water. Shu places the dough into the two baking tins and then sets them down in the tray of water, precariously balancing the whole thing on the thin ledge of the sink.

And Mika already knows what to do next—he opens up the oven wide, and Shu moves slowly as he pushes the tray inside. He shuts the oven with one final huff and stands back to wipe his forehead. 

“It takes about forty minutes to bake, so there’s more time to spare. I’m going to continue sewing, if you’d like to watch some more.”

“M’kay,” Mika says, folding his hands together. Shu washes his hands and then the two of them sit down at the kotatsu again to resume what they were doing before.

Mika likes this, he decides. Baking bread is kind of terrible sensory-wise, especially the part with the oil, but it’s still pretty fun. He liked the sensation of kneading the dough, and he liked being able to score it, too. He doesn’t particularly care about eating it, but he’s glad that he gets to make something with Shu. He likes doing things together with him—it makes him happy, makes his heart warm. A beautiful flower is blooming inside of his thorax, petals extending throughout the inside of his ribcage, brushing against his lungs.

He smiles as he watches Shu sew. He’s making a scarf, it seems, which is a bit simple for him but Mika doesn’t question it because Shu can do whatever he wants. And besides, he’s got pretty limited options here—there’s no sewing machine or anything like that, so traditional handiwork is the next best thing.

Time flies by quickly, and soon enough the oven is beeping, signaling that the bread is done. Mika practically flies to his feet, very excited to see the results of their work.

“Let me take it out. I don’t like the possibility of you getting burnt, especially what with how clumsy you are,” Shu says when they’re in front of the oven. He slides a pair of mitts onto his hands and opens up the door, taking care not to spill the now very-hot water around the baking tray. He sets the two smaller tins aside and dumps the hot water into the sink.

They wait for a few minutes for the bread to settle and for the tins to cool down a little bit, and then Shu slides them out of their containers and onto the counter.

The loaves look great, honestly. Mika doesn’t really know what constitutes a good loaf of bread from a bad one, nor does he particularly care—food is food—but he thinks that they’ve done a good job. The crust looks thick and golden-brown and the scoring is even. When Shu cuts into the bread, it makes the most wonderful crunching sound, and Mika can’t help but smile.

Shu hands off a piece to Mika. “Taste,” he instructs, and Mika does exactly that.    
  
His eyes practically light up. “‘ts really good!” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. He bounces up and down on the heels of his feet, so pleased with everything going on. “I’ve never made bread b’fore… I’m real happy, Oshi-san.”

Shu makes a classic sound that’s something like a  _ hmph  _ and then he tries some of the bread, too. And Mika cannot forget his reaction—a little smile. Shu smiles! Mika smiles! They’re both smiling and eating bread and it’s one of the best days that Mika has had in a long while.

“Hold on a moment, Kagehira. There’s one more thing that I want to give you.”

Mika raises an eyebrow, unsure what to expect. Shu disappears to the kotatsu and returns with the scarf in his hands. It’s a beautiful mix of deep blue and grey with silver flecks in the yarn, and it glimmers underneath the light fixture in the ceiling. “It’s for you,” Shu says, holding it out with both of his hands as if it were a sword. Mika reaches out to take it but then Shu moves it away and instead spins Mika around.

His hands are delicate as they wrap the scarf around Mika’s neck. He drapes the ends across his shoulders and loops the scarf once so that it is settled nicely. Mika touches the ends of it with his hands, feeling very nearly close to tears. He sniffles once, and then takes a deep breath, trying to regain control over his emotions.

“I love it,” he says, although it’s more of a whisper than anything else. “Th-thank ya, Oshi-san. Y’didn’t have t—”

“Don’t say such things. I made it because I needed to fill my time, and there wasn’t anything else to do. I wanted you to have something new that would match your eyes and hair.”

“W-Well, still, I think ‘ts real nice.” Mika feels utterly jovial.

Shu coughs. “Yes, well.” Pause. “Let us… make dinner next. We can use the bread that we’ve baked; it would be foolish to let it sit aside for the rest of the day, after all.”

“M’kay!” Mika says, and he’s still touching the ends of his scarf. “Jus’ tell me what ya need me t’do.”

And then Mika beams at Shu, the picture of sunshine, and Shu offers a small smile in return, and that’s exactly what Mika wanted.


End file.
